


Louder Than It All

by effbiz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effbiz/pseuds/effbiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek had never been one for neighborly affection. But maybe he could make an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give Me The Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo first fanfic. Yep, thoughts?

Coming home immediately after his finals had never been part of Derek's plan. He had wanted to stay up in his apartment for a few days, maybe celebrate the end of their Junior Year with his roommate, Boyd, a bit before taking his time to pack and head back to Beacon Hills. But when Laura wants something, she makes it happen immediately. And unfortunately for Derek, that meant Laura parked outside the building of his last final with her signature wicked grin.

Now Derek was home with his older sister for the Summer much earlier than he had intended to. He barely had a chance to write down the address for Boyd so he and his girlfriend (who also happened to be Derek's best friend) could come visit him. Who knows why Laura even wanted him here? He had barely been home 15 minutes before she was speeding off to some party leaving him alone for the entire night. It came as no surprise to Derek when he woke up to find Laura passed out on the couch like a hot mess in last night's clothes. He scoffed at the sight, took a quick picture on his phone for black mail, before heading outside. It was a nice enough day, sunny and warm as usual while still early enough that it was cool enough for Derek's morning run.

Before heading out, Derek tossed his t-shirt on the kitchen table, figuring by the time he was half way in it would be too hot for one anyway. That was usually as far as his thought process went this early, yet while stretching a bit in the front yard, he couldn't help but reminisce as he looked around the neighborhood he had grown up in. Not much had changed in the gate-guarded community except for his new neighbors. Or at least he assumed they were new, considering he had never gotten the vibe that 84 year old Mrs. Norris would ever be caught dead a beat up, ugly Jeep. Shaking his head, he took off in a light run that easily cleared all thoughts of new neighbors out of his head.

A while later, Derek was returning to his house, slightly out of breath as the sun began to pound down on his tan shoulders. As he approached the mail box, he jumped at the loud clang that came from across the yard. Turning around to face the noise, he saw a tall, lanky thing over by the Jeep he had seen earlier. The guy had knocked over his entire tool box and was now mumbling profanities to himself as he attempted to pick it all up. Rolling his eyes, Derek was surprised to find himself jogging over and picking up a few miscellaneous wrenches and screw drivers.

"Fuck, thanks. I swear I'm the clumisiest shit in the entire--" The awkward boy stopped himself as he finally looked up from where he was squatted on the driveway to see Derek standing above him. He immediately stood up and offered his hand. "Well, I'll be damned. You must be.. Derek right? I've heard about you from Laura. Mostly good things, I promise! I'm Stiles," Derek shook hands with this stranger uncomfortably before wiping his now oily hands on his running shorts.

"Oh sorry about that," Stiles said, motioning to the oil that was now staining the old shorts. "Besy here has broken down on me.. again." Stiles patted the roof of the old Jeep comfortingly while looking at Derek, who suddenly realized he hadn't said anything this entire time.

"Ah.." Was the only thing he could get out. _Great, amazing job with english,_ Derek, he thought.

Luckily, Stiles laughed and nudged Derek's bare shoulder with his hand. "A man of many words I see," Stiles said before bending over to pick up a few more fallen objects from the cement while Derek continued to stare. He wasn't sure if the conversation was over or not, but he took that as enough of a dismissal and headed back towards his home.

"Well, bye?" Stiles called from behind his car. Derek half heartedly lifted a hand in response, not even bothering to turn around as he hurried across the grass. As soon as the door closed behind him, Derek let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding as he leaned back against the door.

"Ungh..." Still leaning against the door, he turned his body toward the living room where Laura was, her head barely holding itself up with it's halo of messy hair. "Coffee.." She muttered before plopping her head back down.

Sighing, Derek walked to the kitchen and started a pot of what he hoped would keep his sister from bitching too much about a hangover. If this was the start of his summer, Derek wasn't so sure he was ready for it.


	2. It's A Stand Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, people read this! Which is way cooler than expected. So here is another chapter for all you little ducklings. I hope you enjoy it!

Derek had been home for almost a week and he was already losing his mind. Everyday he did the _same damn thing._ He would wake up, make coffee for himself and an extremely hungover Laura, go for a run, read some of his Summer assignments, do some miscellaneous work around the house that clearly needed to be done, say goodbye to Laura as she walked out the house in another scantily clad outfit of hers, rinse and repeat. 

It was Sunday morning when he slammed down his coffee mug and angrily groaned at Laura, who was slouched over the table and picking at the toast he had been trying to feed her.

"Why do you always have to be so _loud,_ " She grumbled quietly, looking at him with a bitch glare to beat the best and bitchiest out there. "What is causing this mornings hissy, _Der_?" He grimaced at the familiar, annoying nickname that she always used when she was either irritated or in need of him to do her a favor.

Derek stood up and began to pace around the kitchen. "Well,  _Laur,_ I'm bored. So fucking bored. There has to be more for me to do around here than sit and read and do your bitch work." She stared at him, thinking way too much for a hungover person this early in the morning, before standing up in front of him and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm going to go upstairs, probably throw up, then shower. After that we can go find you a job or something, okay princess?" He groaned and turned away from her and went back to his seat at the table.

"Fine," Derek said begrudgingly since he always hated when Laura had the best ideas, because it meant she was right. And usually that he was wrong. Laura smirked at him before walking up the stairs to go get ready.

After a pretty lengthy amount of time spent puking, showering, and getting dressed, Laura had finally been presentable enough for them to _finally_ head into town and by then, Derek was practically bouncing in his seat. Forget that he was 20 years old, he was being given the chance to do something that wasn't involving being his sister's slave for the entire Summer and, dammit, he was excited!

They had visited a few shops before finally finding exactly the right place for Derek, a small bookstore located in the center of town right next to the car mechanic and the coffee shop. It was run by an older couple who mainly needed help with heavy shipments and stocking the taller shelves. It was almost as if the job was made for Derek himself, he even liked the people who owned the store and Derek didn't like anyone. It was the perfect job.

That is, it _was_ the perfect job until one day while he was working a familiar lanky figure came sauntering in. He had grease on his face and a coffee tray in one hand, his phone in the other. "Hey, Ruthie, Frankie! I got your coffee today," He shouted, not even bothering to look up from his phone while he walked up to the desk where Derek was standing, already scowling at him. "Scott couldn't come by today, too busy but he said he'd be-- You're not Ruthie or Frankie." Stiles stared at Derek as he finally looked up and realized he who he had been speaking to.

"They're out of town at a convention this week," Derek grumbled, looking anywhere but where the car grease was smeared right behind Stiles' ear and down his neck. 

"Well, then I guess you'll have to drink a coffee, neighbor. Hey, we're neighbors at home and work. Funny." Stiles grinned as he took one of the coffees and walked back out the store to, what Derek assumed was, the mechanic shop for work. He was halfway out the door when he spun around and considered Derek, who was now standing awkwardly behind the counter, picking at the lid of one of the coffees while he waited to hear the familiar cling of bells that meant Stiles had finally left him alone.

"You know, you don't talk very much," Stiles said slowly before bursting out in laughter. "I like you." He said, pointing at Derek as if he had just made the funniest joke in the world.

Finally, Derek heard the bells. 

He stared at the door, shell shocked at what had just happened. Who the hell  _was_ this kid? And why was he so determined to distract Derek from his perfectly content life of solitude? Whoever he was, Derek didn't like him. And it wasn't at all because he couldn't stop thinking about the grease stain and hear the echo of a loud laugh while he threw out the coffees.

Well... it wasn't  _just_ because of that.


End file.
